


Revenge in Viewfinder

by charis2770



Series: Finding Vengeance...or is it Something Else? [3]
Category: Finder no Hyouteki | Finder Series
Genre: Anal Sex, Asami is a complete badass, Be warned that some fluff sneaks in to catch you unawares, Ever - Freeform, Feels, Feilong gets what's coming to him, I refuse to apologize, M/M, OMG finally!, Rough Sex, Slash, Spanking, Threesome, Yaoi, all the sex, shameless filth
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-10
Updated: 2013-06-10
Packaged: 2017-12-14 12:50:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/837078
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/charis2770/pseuds/charis2770
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Finally!! Honestly, I had planned for this entire fic to be one part. It got away from me. Things I write have an alarming tendency to do that. Anyway...</p><p>The big day arrives, and Takaba is a bundle of nerves. Asami helps him with this, and then brings Feilong home. What ensues is just nothing but porn. The trap they set springs flawlessly. Feilong gets what he deserves, and surprisingly it's the same thing as what he needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revenge in Viewfinder

One thing Takaba hasn’t taken into account is that the next day he has more than twelve hours to kill before Asami brings Feilong home with him. He cleans the penthouse until every surface shines, carefully dusting and polishing each heirloom and work of art. Since it was done by Asami’s cleaning service yesterday, this takes him about 20 minutes. He takes a long bath and scrubs every inch of his skin with a satisfactory substitute he has found for the tomato scrub. It’s actually superior, because he doesn’t smell like a salad when he’s done, or a bloody mary, or a pizza. It’s called sugar scrub, and it’s actually edible, mixed with citrus and ginger and lavender. His skin feels like silk when he’s finished. Feilong is going to love it. He has always had a thing for Takaba’s fine, smooth skin. He changes the sheets on the bed, even though they have been slept in exactly once and they had fucked on top of the comforter (which has also been changed). Then he fiddles with the sound system. Tries to watch television. Goes to the gym and works out and takes another bath.

His phone rings a little after lunch. It’s Asami.

“How are you, Takaba?” he asks casually, but he’s not even bothering to hid the gentle tone of his voice, and Akihito sighs in relief that Asami has figured out that he’d be feeling antsy today.

“I don’t know what to do,” he confesses, and hopes he isn’t whining.

“It did occur to me that it wasn’t terribly fair that I have a full day of work to occupy me, a great deal of it involving business with Feilong who I must confess I am truly enjoying tormenting…and you must wait all day there in the house alone. I’m sorry. I should have found something for you to do to occupy yourself.”

“Can you talk to me for a little while?” Aki asks cautiously. He hates the thought of being too needy.

“Of course. I am not meeting Feilong for another hour.”

“You said tormenting him….what did you mean?”

Asami chuckles.

“As you predicted, our pretty prey has fallen for the bait wholeheartedly. He’s thrilled with the idea that I’m not enough for you. That you haven’t been able to forget him.”

“Asami,” says Akihito uncomfortably.

“Relax,” scoffs Asami. “Not being able to forget him isn’t the same thing as feeling like I’m not enough for you, Aki. He is, after all, fairly unforgettable.”

“Not enough?” grumbles Takaba, because after all, it won’t do to let things go to Asami’s head, “you’re too much.”

“You love it when I’m too much,” whispers Asami over the phone, his voice dark with sin. “You come so helplessly when I take you too hard. You come while you’re crying because it _hurts_ your tight, sweet little hole.” Takaba intends to stifle the whimper but isn’t entirely successful.

“Stop,” he whines, and Asami does, which is a little surprising. He returns to the original subject.

“I’m letting him gloat a bit,” he says, humor in his voice, but there’s some anger too. Asami is very angry with Feilong, despite being conflicted about the other things he feels for the other gangster.  “Acting annoyed and irritated, perhaps even a little embarrassed. Yet I am also making sure to tell him all manner of filthy things about how  He likes to watch, there’s a strong voyeuristic streak in Feilong, so it’s not difficult to convince him that the reason I’m allowing you this favor is both to get it out of your system and because I am enamored of the idea of watching the two of you together. Which,” he muses, “is true, I’ve realized. I hope you won’t mind terribly if I let it go on for a bit before I step in. I find I’m looking forward to seeing what you look like from an observer’s point of view, while you’re taken.”

“Ugh,” gasps Takaba, “no. I…don’t mind.”

“I wish you could hear how arrogant the brat is being,” says Asami. “I’m quite certain that hearing yourself called a toy and a pet and an eager slut and an ungrateful little tramp would make you as eager as I am to teach him a lesson. He’s really enjoying taunting me with it a little. He doesn’t go too far, not quite, but he dances as close to the edge as he dares. Why don’t I keep you on a shorter leash indeed,” he mutters darkly. There is still amusement in his voice, for he is playing Feilong like a fine violin, but Takaba can tell the Chinese’s taunts are sticking in Asami’s throat like bitter pills. Though he himself calls Asami names all the time, he finds that he is actually incensed over Feilong being allowed to do so. Feilong, who raped him, more than once. Who kidnapped him and held him against his will for so long he despaired of ever seeing his home again. Who allowed the Russians to get their hands on Takaba so that he nearly lost his life. Who shot Asami. Who is also heartbreakingly beautiful and whose touch makes him shiver with equal measures of fear and lust, and whose aching loneliness tugs at Akihito’s heart. Cuddle him, shoot him or spank him, indeed.

They talk for almost the whole hour, and Asami’s recounting of Feilong’s eagerness both helps and makes it worse. Akihito is terrified he is going to be unable to pull off his part. Not the actual fucking, because all he has to do for that is let Feilong have him, but to hide his fear and nerves….he doesn’t know how he’s going to do it. He hopes Feilong will be so eager that he won’t notice Takaba is acting strange, or will chalk it up to jitters.

“Takaba,” says Asami softly, “don’t be afraid. I will not let anything bad happen to you. I swear it. Look at me, remember that you are mine and I will protect you with my life, and walk through the fires of hell to bring you safe home to me no matter what occurs. I have done it before, and I would do it again. Feilong is complicated, and he has hurt you, but he has no power to do so again. You have more power over him than you know, for all that you insist his feelings are only about me. You have touched him in ways he cannot explain, and it confounds him. Be yourself, Aki. Everything else will follow.”

“I’ll try,” he agrees, a little dubiously.

“Now, will it help you be less nervous if you have something to occupy yourself?”

“Yes,” he sighs.

Asami laughs softly.

“Normally I’d never bother trying to give you orders, because you’d only refuse them on principle and be adorable and that would distract me from being displeased with you and want to bite you instead, so I tend to skip right to the biting part. But I don’t want you to dwell on this, my sweet Takaba, for all that your case of nerves is very cute. Will you do some things for me if I ask it?’

“Okay, this time,” he says, because he refuses to sound pathetically grateful. “Just don’t let it go to your head.”

“Never,” swears Asami, and Akihito can tell he’s smiling. The list he gives Takaba is completely random and made up of things he probably has half a dozen people to do for him, but he doesn’t mind, because he manages to occupy himself with a handful of phone calls to Asami’s local grocer, liquor wholesaler, and the seafood market to renew his standing orders for the various delicacies he keeps stocked in the penthouse’s pantry. He unpacks and catalogues a crate of rare books that is dropped off by a courier, then enters them into Asami’s database and shelves them in the library. The list is makework, but he appreciates it nonetheless, and does as meticulous a job as he can. It’s NOT, he tells himself stubbornly, to please Asami. It’s because Feilong is being impossible, and when he imagines reporting meekly to Asami that his orders have all been fulfilled, he grins ferociously to himself because Feilong is going to hate it.

To his surprise, the list occupies him until there are only twenty minutes left before Asami is due to arrive home. He will not be late tonight. He wouldn’t do that to Takaba. The door will open at 9 p.m. on the dot or a minute before, not a moment after. He rushes to the closet and strips off his jeans and t-shirt. He never lets Asami buy him clothing. It makes him feel like a whore, and no logic presented to him has managed to change his mind so far. He has, however, made an exception for tonight. He’ll be barefoot. The Chinese find bare feet to be quite erotic, and even if Feilong doesn’t share this predilection, he will not miss the cultural significance of it. The lounge pants are heaven on his skin. They are the finest silk, soft as cobwebs. They are a very dark jade green, because Asami says they bring out the color in Aki’s eyes. He ties the drawstring in a loose bow, so that a simple tug will free them, and they hang low on his hips. The robe is a work of art. It is silk as well, but heavier. Sleeveless, with a mandarin collar and knotted braid buttons down the front. It is antique gold and green and black, with fantastic embroidery on the back and around the edges. He leaves it open in the front, and looks at himself in the mirror. He smiles a little. He looks like an incredibly expensive Chinese courtesan. His clothing is not unlike what Feilong himself wears, except that Takaba’s outfit is clearly meant for the bedroom and not outerwear. He just  has time to go around the penthouse and light the candles in the places Asami has placed them, when he hears the lock on the front door turning. They have rehearsed this, and he has saved one candle for last. It sits in an alcove by the head of the bed. He turns his back on the door and cocks his head, listening intently. Asami’s voice rumbles from the den, and Feilong’s slightly higher voice answers. The voices grow closer, and he hears Asami say with some amusement,

“I am sure he is here, Feilong, he’s been looking forward to this far too much to have run away again. Aki…ah, here he is.”

On cue, Takaba lights the candle and turns slowly to face the two men who stand in the bedroom doorway. Both pairs of eyes, the golden tiger eyes of his lover and the obsidian black of his….other lover…gleam with appreciation at the sight of him.

“Good evening, Asami-sama,” he says softly. “I’ve finished all the tasks you gave me today.”

Asami’s eyebrows lift a fraction of an inch, because they haven’t rehearsed this, but the surprise on Feilong’s face at the deference in Takaba’s voice is well worth it.

“The book delivery?”

“Catalogued, entered into your database, and shelved. I left the first edition Dickens on your desk as I felt you’d wish to choose a place for it yourself.”

“You know me so well,” murmurs Asami with a warm smile. “Will the seafood market be able to fill my order for the yellowfin by the date I’ve requested?”

“I had to go through a different vendor, Asami-sama,” says Takaba apologetically. “Your usual supplier insisted it could not be had by that date.”

“You found someone who could fulfill the order on this short a notice?”

“Yes, sama,” says Takaba, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. Feilong is looking from one to the other of them with growing astonishment.

“Well done, Takaba-kun. I’m very pleased. Now come and greet our guest.”

“Of course,” whispers Akihito, and walks over to them, hoping no one can tell his knees are shaking a little. Feilong watches him approach, and Aki is struck once again by how beautiful he is. He finds that the way the man stands there, watching him with naked hunger in his eyes, looking both eager and jealous at the same time, stirs an answering hunger in his belly and he manages to smile at Feilong. He stops a couple of feet away and bows, first to Asami, who inclines his head in recognition, his eyes sparkling with mirth, and then to Feilong, who inclines his as well, looking bemused.

“Greetings, Liu Feilong,” murmurs Takaba, keeping his eyes downcast.

“Asami,” says Feilong, “you’ve been withholding information. He’s exquisite. What have you done with him?”

“Thank you, Feilong-sama,” says Takaba.

“You see, Feilong,” says Asami smugly, “your presence here has nothing to do with Takaba being dissatisfied with his circumstances. Our encounter at the hot springs made an impression on him, and he has been so marvelously good that I feel inclined to indulge him. You’ll be familiar with the…attraction…of watching him ravished, will you not? I seem to recall you found it so, his mouth on your cock while I fucked him raw in front of your eyes? How is it surprising I’d want to watch it too, Feilong? You’re quite something to see yourself.”

Feilong is flustered by the compliment, although the only sign of it is a faint flush of color in his cheeks and the tiniest flutter of his eyelashes as he resists looking away in confusion. He smiles a dirty little smile at Asami.

“I shall do my best to put him through his paces….thoroughly, for you,” he purrs.

“Fei,” says Asami softly, his voice a bass growl. “You’ll not harm him, not a hair on his head. Takaba wants you. Don’t be an ass.”

Because he doesn’t want to give Feilong (or himself for that matter) too long to think about it, Akihito steps closer to the Chinese gangster and reaches out his hand to place it softly on Feilong’s chest. He finishes his approach and gazes up at the man from under his eyelashes, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. Feilong stares at his mouth.

“Feilong,” he whispers, so close he could nearly kiss him, “we never had a chance to find out what it would be like when there wasn’t anger between us. I…remember how you kissed me though. Will you…Feilong…will you make love to me? Please?” His eyes slide sideways to glance at Asami as he makes his plea. Asami is grinning delightedly at him and blows him a kiss off the tips of his fingers before he goes to sit in the soft leather armchair in the dim corner of the room. From the bed, in the candlelight, it will be barely visible. Akihito rises up on his toes a little and raises his face towards Feilong’s, asking silently for his kiss. Feilong makes a soft, strangled sound in his throat.

“Yes, Takaba,” he whispers back, and closes the distance, granting the kiss. No matter what else is said about Liu Feilong, he is a fantastic kisser. He uses just the right amount of teeth and tongue, nipping gently, making little darting flicks with the tip of his tongue against Takaba’s lips, brushing their mouths together softly then deepening the contact. Takaba whimpers a little and moves closer, pressing his body against the other man’s, whimpering a little more when he feels Feilong’s long, lean muscled frame pressed against his own. Feilong’s cock is already hard where it pushes against his hip. Takaba breaks the kiss to take Feilong by the hands and tugs gently, backing towards the bed.

“Feilong,” he asks quietly, “may I ask you something? Something I have wondered all these many months and never had a chance to ask you?”

“You may ask,” says Feilong guardedly. “I may answer.”

“Why…please…why did you ask me to stay with you in Hong Kong?”

Feilong looks at him sharply, his face inscrutable. His mouth quirks in a smile, and Takaba knows Feilong is indeed going to lie.

“I had grown addicted to your body’s charms, Takaba, and come to like you. I wasn’t sure Asami would come for you, and I wanted to offer you an…alternative. By then, you had quite bewitched me, and I confess I found the thought of keeping you a pleasant one.”

Takaba smiles sweetly at Feilong, and then his eyes seek Asami’s. Asami nods at him, hiding his smirk behind folded knuckles. He’s not surprised either.

“Thank you, Feilong,” he murmurs, and his thanks are entirely unfeigned, because he doesn’t feel bad for what’s going to happen anymore. He calls to mind the pain he’d felt when Feilong had forced him, and how Feilong had liked it. He gazes at the smirking mouth and the coldness that covers up everything real in Feilong’s eyes with amusement and cruelty. The guilt that has been riding him about this plan, that had been telling him that this is not his way, vanishes like fog under bright sunlight. He allows himself to be angry, even furious with Feilong, and the freedom of it tugs his mouth into a return smile for Feilong. It makes him realize something else, too. Feilong is perhaps the most broken human being he has ever met. He knows the man to be capable of real emotion, for he has seen it. Feilong betrays people and stabs them in the back because he is used to being betrayed and stabbed in the back. There is a part of Takaba that is doing this for that man, for the man who not only keeps but cares deeply for an orphaned boy who adores him and whose innocence and sweetness Feilong goes to great pains to protect. It is revenge, yes, but under that, Aki hopes that they will strip Feilong of his masks and shields and wreck him down to the gut and bone of his humanity and drag it out of him into the light. There is something so hauntingly compelling about the young man that Takaba cannot bear NOT to try to save him. He also realizes simultaneously that Asami is really not at all like Feilong when he boils it down. It is true that Ryuichi Asami is ruthless and driven and capable of great cruelty, but nearly every day Takaba sees evidence that he is much more. From the employee who betrayed him because rivals had kidnapped his daughter and who Asami not only spared but kept in his position, to the underling for whom Asami went to the trouble of finding a rare collectible the man wanted very much, to letting Takaba run away when he feels too trapped and giving him space to realize he wants to be here after all, to purchasing an entire fireworks display because Takaba had missed the Festival due to a spoiled diva of a model making his photo shoot take too long. Asami rewards loyalty and shows mercy and accepts Takaba for who he is.  He smiles at Feilong and finds that he’s not going to be awkward after all.

“May I undress you, Feilong?” he asks softly. Feilong’s smile widens.

“Of course you can,” he says in a lofty voice. “Show me how graceful you can be, Akihito. Let’s see if poor Asami’s so-called training is worth anything underneath the gloss.”

Takaba grits his teeth a little and goes to work on Feilong’s clothing, glancing at the shadows where Asami sits watching, letting him see Aki’s irritation with Feilong’s cold words. Asami leans forward a bit so Takaba can see his facial expression. Most of the time, Asami’s eyes remind Takaba of a tiger’s, or of living amber, alight with deep golden coals that smolder. However, when he is angry, there is a marked difference. The glow of heat vanishes, and the tiger is replaced by the flat empty stare of a shark, cold and calculating.

He unbuttons Feilong’s long silk tunic very slowly, folding it back from his chest and pulling it slowly and smoothly off his arms. He folds the expensive native robe carefully and lays it on the dresser. He kneels carefully and lifts one of the man’s feet and then the other, tugging his socks off. Feilong’s shoes will be beside the front door where footwear is kept. He stands back up, running his hands lightly up Feilong’s legs as he does so, then his ribs and chest, stopping at the base of his throat where his banded-collar silk shirt is fastened. He removes it much as he had the tunic, and places it, folded, beside the other garment. When he has Feilong’s torso bared, he walks slowly around the other man, his fingertips lightly tracing the lines of muscle that cord the Baishe leader’s body with steel. Feilong has always reminded Takaba of a fine blade; slim, deadly, fast and perfectly made. He indulges himself with touching the man, something he never did while Feilong’s captive. Even in his anger and fear and despair, when Feilong had touched him, he had wondered what it would feel like to touch him in return. He pauses at Feilong’s back and allows himself the luxury of stroking fingers through the silk of Feilong’s hair. It is as glossy as a raven’s wing and softer than the finest silk thread. Feilong’s hair almost feels like a live thing in his hands, warm and soft and flowing like water through his fingers. He grasps it in a long tail and places it over the man’s shoulder, letting it hang over his chest and belly, then he presses his mouth between Feilong’s shoulder blades and kisses him, his tongue darting out to flicker against warm skin. Feilong sucks in a breath and his finely-tuned body shivers once. Takaba smiles, then returns to the front, where he drops back to his knees and unbuttons Feilong’s pants. Gently, slowly, he tugs the pants over Feilong’s hips and down his long legs, where he helps him step out of them. Part of him wants to just toss them over his shoulder and get on with it, but he doesn’t. He folds the slacks as well and puts them with the rest of Feilong’s clothing. With a step, he sinks back to the floor before Feilong, who looks down on him with his eyelids lowered and his lips slightly parted. Takaba leans forward and takes Feilong’s burgeoning erection in his mouth. Feilong’s fingers drift through his hair and tug gently as he eagerly sucks as though Feilong’s cock is his oasis. He licks and suckles and strokes, and Feilong is panting before very long, and the hands in his hair tug insistently. Takaba lets go of Feilong’s cock and stands obediently.

“Perhaps another time,” mutters Feilong, pushing him back onto the bed. “Right now I don’t want to come in your mouth.” He folds the lapels of Takaba’s robe back and presses his fingertip against one rosy nipple, then presses gently with one of his long fingernails. Takaba whimpers again. “So lovely,” murmurs Feilong. He leans down and kisses the younger man again, more deeply this time, and Takaba makes a muffled sound of appreciation when Feilong’s hand tugs once at the drawstring at his waist and the tie falls loose, the waistband of the silk pants loosening slightly with the lack of tension. Not breaking the kiss, Takaba raises his hips and shimmies out of his pants. Their skins feel nice rubbing together, and Feilong leans down to lick Takaba’s other nipple.

“You taste marvelous,” he breathes, scraping the hard little point with his teeth. Takaba’s glad he used the sugar scrub. “Such wonderful skin, Akihito.”

“Thank you, Feilong,” gasps Aki, “I have tried to keep it soft.”

“Lubricant?” asks Feilong with an arched brow. “I assume you don’t take Asami dry every time, or this is likely to be a disappointing encounter for me.” Takaba pretends to pout a little at the jab, but he’s thinking “asshole” at Feilong so hard he’s surprised the other man doesn’t hear it. He reaches over to the bedside table and grasps the bottle, handing it to Feilong.

The Tong leader takes his time lubricating Takaba’s hole, stroking in and out gently, tugging to open him bit by bit. He’s extremely careful. Takaba is gasping and squirming and arching his hips up to let Feilong’s hand have better access under him. He is, in fact, so careful that Takaba is going crazy with impatience. Partly this is because he is still terrified of something going wrong and Feilong figuring out what they’re up to. Partly it is because he’s READY already and he wants Feilong to fuck him. He realizes this is probably perverse, to want him this way, but he can’t help what his body feels, or the strange welter of emotions Feilong has roused in him since their first meeting.

Feilong leans over Aki on one elbow, the other hand between the young photographer’s legs, two fingers buried deep inside the boy’s body, scissoring and thrusting gently, staring at the expressions on Takaba’s face. Takaba arches his back and rolls his hips with the slow thrusts of the fingers in his hole. He stares back at Feilong, biting his lip and whimpering softly. Feilong’s black eyes blaze with triumph.

“So eager,” muses Feilong. “So wanton. Oh, you _are_ a degenerate little thing, aren’t you?”

“Yes,” gasps Takaba. “Feilong, come ON.”

“Come on?” jests Feilong in amusement. “What do you want, Akihito?”

“You, Feilong. I want you.” Aki writhes and pushes himself against Feilong’s fingers.

“What do you want me to do, pretty little slut? Let your master hear you beg me for it. See if he’s so smug when he hears you desperate for another man.”

Takaba bites his lip harder and whines, mostly to cover up the furious grin that wants to break out on his face when he thinks how Asami is going to make Feilong pay for that sentiment.

“I want you, Feilong,” he gasps. “I want you….to fuck me. I’m ready, do it. Please, Feilong, fuck me.”

“How can I refuse,” growls Feilong softly, and obviously he cannot. Because intimacy seems to be an issue for Liu Feilong, Takaba expects to be flipped over onto his belly to be taken, but Feilong moves so that he kneels between Akihito’s legs. He lifts the boy’s legs so they rest on his own thighs, tilting his hips up so that Feilong can line up his cock with Akihito’s asshole. He eases himself inside carefully. Conflicting expressions flit over his features. Akihito recognizes many of them. The desire to just pound himself into Takaba as hard as he can, or to draw it out and savor every tight centimeter. Glee at taking something of Asami’s in front of his face. Soft wonder at the way Takaba’s body accepts and welcomes his, so different from the way it had been in Hong Kong.

For his own part, Akihito does not want Feilong this controlled, this careful. Feilong is a man used to watching his back. He is going to have to be completely abandoned inside of Takaba or even Asami may not be able to take him by surprise. He moans and squirms to push himself onto Feilong’s cock faster. Feilong’s eyes close for a moment. His hips snap forwards and bury him the rest of the way inside the boy. Akihito throws his head back and howls as Feilong’s cock smashes against his prostate.

“F…Feilong!” he cries. “Ohh! It’s….yes. Ahh. Harder. Harder, PLEASE!” He writhes and squirms and tries ineffectually to get the hardness inside him to go deeper. Feilong, holding himself above Takaba on his knees and one arm, the other on Aki’s thigh, pulling him close, stares down at him. The crime lord’s eyes are a little wild, a tiny rim of white showing at the edges of his fathomless black gaze, his lips parted, breath harsh in his lungs. Akihito arches against him and reaches for him with his hands, clenching the tight muscles of his ass so that Feilong hisses and pulls back to thrust in again, harder.

“Yes, oh, yes!” cries Aki. His hand closes on Feilong’s forearm and grips tightly. Feilong groans softly and lowers himself closer to Takaba, taking his other hand and pressing to the mattress above their heads. Takaba whispers and pushes up to meet Feilong’s thrusts and gasps and whimpers and begs. It makes Feilong wild for him. After a couple of minutes, Feilong is no longer maintaining his cold and sardonically amused distance. His eyes are closed tightly, a frown of concentration on his face, as he fucks into Takaba like a mindless beast, holding on to both of Takaba’s hands. His lips are moving, but he is speaking Chinese and Takaba can’t understand him. He senses rather than sees movement from the corner, so he throws his legs around Feilong’s waist and clasps his hands tighter, moaning into Feilong’s ear. His heart is beating so hard he fears it will pound its way out of his chest. He whispers the dirtiest things he can think of into Feilong’s ear and digs his heels into Feilong’s thighs to pull him close, and he looks into Asami’s eyes as his lover approaches silently. Asami is as gorgeous to him as always, his shirt hanging open. He has left his tie and vest back where he was sitting. The look in his eyes makes Takaba’s breath catch in his throat. He has, in his mind, often likened Asami to a panther or a tiger, with his sleek and deadly strength, but he has never seen Asami look more like a predator than he does right now. His head is down and he stares at his target from under his sooty eyelashes and his gaze could burn a hole in a brick wall. As Takaba watches, the shirt slips off Asami’s shoulders and down his arms to puddle silently on the floor. Asami thumbs open the top button of his pants without looking down. His sinful mouth is open just a little, and the tip of his tongue touches his bottom lip softly. Takaba moans louder, glad that Feilong has his head buried in the photographer’s shoulder and cannot see that it is Asami who draws the sound from his body. The yakuza’s left hand flexes, and his right, which he has had hidden behind his thigh, comes slowly into view. He’s got his gun in his hand. Takaba’s heart clutches at the sight of it. He’s as sure as it’s possible for him to be that Asami doesn’t plan to just shoot Feilong on top of him and let him die in Takaba’s arms. He’s terrified of guns, but Asami is so unbelievably perfect right now he isn’t able to worry about it. His cock, trapped between his and Feilong’s bodies, jerks mindlessly  when Asami looks deeply into his eyes as he looms over them, and smiles a slow, dirty smile. He winks, and Takaba answers him by groaning theatrically into the oblivious Feilong’s ear.

“Feilong,” purrs Asami, malice oozing from his voice. At the exact same moment he speaks, he presses the barrel of the gun to the back of Feilong’s head. Feilong freezes. “Hm,” continues Asami. “I think perhaps we’ve been here before, my gun to the back of your skull.”

“I recall we ended up with me on top that time,” says Feilong coolly. Takaba can’t hear any emotion in his voice, but he can feel the man’s body vibrating with something…rage? Fear? Both? Something else? Because he can’t help but notice that Feilong is as hard as ever inside him.

“Mm,” whispers Asami. “Do you remember how you reacted….” The pistol drifts slowly downwards, Takaba can’t see to where, he can only feel the tension in Feilong’s body. “when I did….this?” He can see the muscles of Asami’s shoulder flex as he shoves the gun forwards and is pretty sure he can guess where it is. Feilong stiffens and sucks in his breath.

“I remember how you reacted when I kissed you,” whispers Feilong.

“That’s why you’re here, you unbearable brat,” hisses Asami in response. “You’ve been trying to get me to punish your bad behavior for years. You should have just asked, Feilong, sweet boy, and this would have been….well.” Asami smiles wolfishly. “I won’t say less painful. It’s what you need, after all. What you’re begging for. What you positively _require._ ”

“Fuck you, Asami, get off of me before you do something I can’t forgive and I’m forced to erase you and your precious Takaba.”

“Could you, Feilong,” breathes Asami in the Baishe’s ear. “Could you kill the only things you’ve ever really wanted this way? You want this so badly you can taste it. You have been mine since the first time I kissed you, when you were a scared boy and had no one to turn to. If you had only listened, Feilong, I would have helped you. Protected you. Fucked you like you need to be fucked, and licked the tears from your lovely face. Punished you when you were bad. And ohhh, Feilong, my beautiful boy, you have been so very, VERY bad. I’ve let you go over and over, Feilong. Hear me now. Not again. I won’t let you go this time. I’m giving you what you’ve been begging for all these years and then I’m going to keep on giving it to you, over and over again until you understand what it means to be mine.”

Feilong’s head is abruptly yanked off Takaba’s shoulder when Asami fists a hand in his lovely hair and wrenches him backwards. Feilong gasps, and Asami puts his cheek down close to Feilong’s so that he can whisper right in the younger man’s ear.

“You hurt Takaba, Feilong. More than once. And that isn’t allowed. Nobody hurts what’s mine. Listen to me closely, little boy. Nobody. Hurts. What’s Mine.”

“Go to hell,” pants Feilong.

“You’re not paying attention, Feilong. You broke the rules, and I’m going to punish you. But listen to what else I’m telling you. Nobody is going to hurt you again, Feilong, nobody but me. Takaba,” he glances down and smiles. “All right?”

“Yes Asami, I’m fine. He’s still hard, inside me,” he says, smirking up at Feilong, who gives him a very dirty look.

“That’s because he’s this close to getting what he really wants. Admit it, Feilong. Say yes, you foolish, rebellious boy, and everything you want…everything you need…can be yours.”

“It’s not that simple, you bastard,” grits Feilong through his teeth.

“Why is it not?” asks Takaba. “You’re the only one getting in your way, Feilong. You feel so good inside me. It was never a lie, Feilong. I wanted you. I want you. I still do. Get out of your own way and take what’s in front of you. That’s all you have to do.”

Feilong looks at Takaba for a very long time with no expression on his face. At least, his long eyelashes flutter closed to rest against his cheek and he sighs. A single tear glitters on his lashes and then falls, a tiny spot of wet on Takaba’s cheek.

“I told you in Hong Kong that I’m not your papa, Feilong,” murmurs Asami softly, his breath ruffling Feilong’s silky hair. Takaba doesn’t miss the shudder that wracks Feilong’s body, and neither does Asami. “And I’m not. I won’t be. But I will take care of you. There have been many things said in anger between us. That night, there were two things between us that were absolutely true. Can you guess what they were?”

“I’m not playing some stupid game with you, Asami,” rages Feilong.

“You should try strip poker with him,” mutters Takaba, with no idea why he says it when things are this tense, but then, his brain almost never stops to make wise choices. “He always wins but you really don’t mind once he’s finished with you.”

Asami’s eyes widen and then narrow furiously at Takaba for a moment, and he turns his head to the side and hides his face in Feilong’s hair. Takaba’s not sure, but he thinks Asami’s laughing. Feilong turns his head a little and looks down at Takaba incredulously. Takaba shrugs and little and grins at Feilong, who bites his lip and closes his eyes and shudders again, only it’s not fear or lust or anger. His mouth twitches and he laughs.

“Is it any wonder I came to get him back?” chuckles Asami.

“None whatsoever,” sighs Feilong. “Fine. Two true things. One was…oh hell, Asami, I hate guessing games, if you have a point will you please make it? If you’re planning to rape me, I’d as soon not have to wait until I’m too old to kick your ass afterwards.”

“I’m not going to rape you, Feilong,” whispers Asami, his tongue darting out to trace the rim of Feilong’s ear. “I’m going to fuck you. I’m going to punish you. And you’re going to ask me to.”

“Like hell.”

“The first true thing was when I said I didn’t want to let you die, Feilong.”

A strange expression blooms on Feilong’s face.

“It was because of you that I nearly did in the first place,” he protests angrily. Even to Takaba, the anger sounds forced.

“You don’t believe that anymore,” says Asami quietly. “I never did a single thing to hurt you. I would have saved you, if you’d let me.”

Only Takaba can see the grief and loss that flits across the trembling Baishe’s face at that moment. Feilong gets his features under control quickly, but the look still trembles in the air between them all.

“I know,” whispers Feilong bleakly.

“There was another true thing that night, Feilong. You know what it was. You KNOW.”

“The kiss,” Feilong sighs.

Asami’s hand yanks Feilong’s head to the side. It’s an awkward angle, but the sound Feilong makes is not a pain sound. Asama covers Feilong’s mouth with his own and kisses him. Feilong and Takaba both let out tiny whimpers. Fuck, thinks Takaba, they’re gorgeous. It’s one of the hottest things he’s ever seen. It is a long time before Asami frees Feilong’s head and backs off a little. Feilong is still for several moments, panting harshly, staring blindly at Takaba but not really seeing him. His beautiful black eyes close again and some of the tension leaves his body.

“Yes,” he whispers, so softly Takaba is  not even sure he hears it right. Asami habors no such doubt. There is a clinking sound and then the slithery hiss of leather against cloth.

“This is for Takaba, Feilong,” he warns softly. “Don’t move.”

The earsplitting crack of leather against flesh startles Akihito, who flinches. For his part, Feilong does not move at all. Wide-eyed, Aki looks at Asami over Feilong’s shoulder and sees him draw his arm back, his belt wrapped around his fist and about two feet of it dangling down. There is another loud crack, and this time Feilong does flinch. He does not squirm or try to  get away, and he does not say a word. By the time Asami has laid down a dozen strokes of his belt, Feilong is trembling, but he still holds himself above Takaba on his arms, and Takaba, who is doing a much worse job at not squirming, can feel him anchored deep inside, still hard. In fact, harder still, because Feilong’s cock twitches with every stroke. He’s biting his lip and gasping by twenty. Takaba’s very glad Asami’s aim is good, because he’s feeling a little vulnerable with his balls visible right below Feilong’s body, in the general vicinity of where Asami’s belt is surely turning Feilong’s pale, flawless skin purple. At thirty, Feilong makes a tiny pain sound and Takaba looks up to see tears welling in his eyes. He still has not moved or spoken. After a few more thick, meaty-sounding thwacks of the belt against his bare skin, Feilong has tears rolling slowly down his face and he opens his exotic, beautiful eyes and looks down at Takaba.

“I…” he chokes, “I’m sorry, Takaba.”

Aki hears the belt hit the floor with a thump and then Asami is behind Feilong, his hands gentle on the gangster’s hips.

“This is going to hurt, Feilong,” he breathes softly.

“I know,” says Feilong thickly, and his voice sounds small and a little bit scared but he rolls his hips inside Takaba, who gasps and whimpers in appreciation.

Aki cries out in startled pleasure when he feels Asami’s fingers stroke gently at the rim of stretched flesh where Feilong is anchored inside him. Feilong’s muffled exclamation says he’s not hating it either.

“You’re lucky you used extra to keep from hurting Takaba,” purrs Asami. “As this is all you’re getting.”

Feilong’s eyelashes flutter again. Takaba watches his face in fascination. He’s struggled for so long, so many times, with what the hell is wrong with him that he gets aroused by the often excruciating things Asami does to him. He fights against it because he can’t help himself sometimes. Can’t stop worrying that he is a perpetual victim and that there’s something deeply wrong with him. Feilong, apparently, suffers no such compunction. His body stiffens when Asami shoves two fingers roughly into his hole, but his lips part and his eyes roll back in his head a little.

“Asami,” whispers Takaba, “he likes it.”

Feilong shoots Takaba another dirty look.

“Stop helping, Takaba-kun,” he says in a voice gone ragged with arousal and pain and fear.

“Feilong has hidden what he really wants for a very long time,” says Asami in an almost tender voice. “Unable to show weakness or need because he knew he’d suffer for it. Isn’t that right, pretty one?”

“Yes,” gasps Feilong, his voice rising in a pained noise when Asami stabs his fingers in particularly hard.

“You’ll only suffer for _me_ now,” snarls the yakuza, removing his fingers and positioning himself behind Feilong. Takaba reaches up and tugs Feilong’s face down, kissing the other man eagerly, and when Feilong’s body jolts and his cock is forced deeper into Takaba’s ass by Asami’s brutal thrust, Takaba swallows Feilong’s agonized cry and keeps kissing him. It’s delicious. Every vicious jab wrenches a whimper or a cry or a howl from Feilong, but he is lifting his body to meet Asami’s thrusts, and so his cock moves inside Takaba with the rhythm Asami’s forcing them into. He breaks the kiss at last, and Feilong lets his head fall forward to rest on Aki’s shoulder again, gasping breathlessly and whining when Asami slams into him again and again.

“Does it hurt, Feilong?” whispers Takaba, stroking his fingers tenderly through Feilong’s beautiful hair.

“Yes,” gasps Feilong.

“Feilong,” continues Takaba, his hands coming up to touch the lines and planes of the Baishe leader’s face, his thumbs brushing away tears, fingers ghosting over Feilong’s mouth, which is so perfect it looks sculpted. The lips part and Feilong’s tongue softly laves the tip of Aki’s fingers. “You’re beautiful, Feilong. Ohh,” he sighs, raising his hips to meet the downward stab of the hardness inside him. “Oh Asami, I’m…”

“Are you going to come for us, Takaba?” purrs Asami smiling at him. He shoves into Feilong harder, wringing a strangled cry from the one who is trapped between them, held fast and yet also cradled there.

“Yes,” he hollers desperately, throwing his head back and arching into Feilong. “Yes, oh…oh now, Asami, I’m coming…”

Takaba howls at the top of his lungs when his orgasm crashes into him and washes over him like a hurricane gleefully ignoring a levee, flooding his body and brain with sensation. He feels the tight ring of muscle in his ass flutter and grip and convulse around Feilong’s cock. Feilong grabs Takaba like he is his lifeline, shuddering and sobbing out his pleasure, and Aki feels the warm flooding sensation of his release inside him, and wraps his arms around Feilong. Asami’s hand curls around his where he presses it against Feilong’s sweaty back and he feels his lover’s lips brush a kiss across his knuckles, then Asami’s teeth nip gently. He looks up at Asami’s face. The older man’s expression is like nothing Takaba has ever seen before. He is almost impossibly beautiful as triumph and passion and possessive pride and animal hunger and something very close to joy light up his eyes like beacons. His smile is both tender and feral, though how that can be, Takaba isn’t sure. It’s true, though.

“Mine,” hisses Asami, the rhythm of his cruel thrusts faltering.

“Yours,” whispers Takaba back, because right now, in this moment, there isn’t anything else he can say. Maybe he will fight Asami about it tomorrow, but not now. And then,

“Yours,” breathes Feilong, so softly it is less than a sigh, but it is the magic word for Asami, who throws his head back and _shouts_ at the ceiling, grinding into Feilong’s hole and emptying his passion into him, at last, after more than seven long years of pain and anger and betrayal and unrequited lust. Feilong’s shoulders are shaking. He is crying a little, and for the first time Takaba sees the vulnerability in Feilong he had glimpsed in Hong Kong, the insecurity and need and aching loneliness he knew instinctively was there, the need to please a man who never acknowledged him in life driving him to be more than any one man should ever have to try to be. He is, in this moment, the boy who Asami had nearly loved, and who had ached to reach for what Asami would have given him. When Asami stops shuddering, he leans down, curving his powerful body over Feilong and pressing a kiss to the back of his neck.

The logistics of disconnecting the tangle of their limbs and bodies is a little awkward, because not one of them has a lot of experience with handling the extra bits a third partner tosses into the mix, but they manage, although Takaba is fizzing with giggles by the time they do, and both Feilong and Asami look a little aggrieved at him. He distracts them from their narrowed glares by stroking the palm of his hand over Feilong’s ass, which is a truly astonishing color and temperature.

“That looks like it hurt,” he says sympathetically.

Asami has never been easy to deter.

“Keep laughing, my pet, and find out.”

“Asami!”

“Mm,” says Asami heartlessly. “I can have that belt in my hand in about ten seconds, and I’ll let Feilong hold your hands so you can’t get away and ohh Aki, you’ll scream.”

Akihito’s cock makes a creditable attempt at twitching with interest, but Feilong groans and presses his face to Asami’s chest.

“You’re a horrible person,” he says protestingly.

“I’ve been saying that for ages!” cries Takaba triumphantly. “Now maybe someone will listen to me!”

“Great,” mutters Asami bitterly. “two snotty brats is exactly what I need.”

“If you’d let me finish,” says Feilong silkily, looking up at Asami with a wicked smile, “Can we please beat him tomorrow? As delightful as it sounds…” He looks at Aki and his smile turns to pure filth, “I really think I’m far too tired tonight.”

“You’re a horrible person too,” grumbles Takaba at Feilong.

“You have _no_ idea,” purrs Feilong, pulling Aki into his arms and licking a long stripe up the side of his neck. Takaba yelps in protest. “That’s disgusting!”

“Shut up, both of you,” growls Asami, “or I’ll spank the shit out of everybody in this bed but me.”

“Not literally, I hope,” quips Feilong.

“That’s not fair,” complains Takaba.

“This,” announces Asami helplessly, “was a colossal mistake.”

Takaba and Feilong grin at him at the same time. Takaba falls asleep with Asami’s muscled torso spooned against his back and Feilong’s leg thrown over his thigh and the two crime lords' hands tangled together and resting on his hip, his own fingers surrounded by the silk of Feilong’s hair.

**Author's Note:**

> I had originally intended to make the revenge fuck scene between Asami and Feilong be non-consensual and have Feilong forced to get off on it in spite of himself. In the end, I couldn't do that. I had a number of reasons for it. First, as a responsible member of an alternative lifestyle, true rape scenes give what we a do a bad name. All the noncon scenes in my work are either roleplays or committed by the bad guys. Making rape sexy is just not okay, not unless it's a game everyone involved agrees to.
> 
> That in mind, once I got down to the actual scene and Asami got up to do what he intended to do, he sort of changed his mind a little. He uses his gun to force Feilong to be still and listen to him, and he forces him instead to face the thing between them and be truthful about it. I think he does a pretty good job. 
> 
> I struggled for a little while with having Feilong break down and show his vulnerability, but when I went back through the manga and studied all their interactions, I realized that what I've written feels pretty perfect to me. Feilong reacts to Asami as the dominant partner when they first get to know one another. He's younger than Asami, and he's so well-portrayed as someone desperate to be loved and accepted that there is no way Dominance is the alignment of his heart. Of choice, yes. Feilong's defenses are massive, and he learns to be cold and hard through betrayal (by his fucked-up brother especially) and surviving prison, and having to be ten times harder and colder than the next guy so nobody kills him while he's rebuilding his father's empire. His reaction to Asami getting the drop on him onboard the ship in Hong Kong is incredibly telling, as is the way he's agonizing over having shot Asami at the beginning of that arc. The look on his face when Asami shoves the gun against his ass is priceless. The pain when he admits to himself that he's as deeply fallen into Asami's power as Takaba made me want to cry for him a little. Asami knew Feilong as a very young man striving desperately for approval. He knows what Feilong needs, and instead of victimizing him, he forces him to admit it's what he wants. Since this happens after the Hong Kong arc, it's easier for Feilong to admit than it would have been during Fixer. I decided that once he's able to admit that much to all of them, Feilong just sort of falls apart a little in relief that he's not having to pretend anymore
> 
> I'll admit, however, that having Feilong be a huge masochist is all me, and I have no justification. Well ok, that's not entirely true. The way he melts when Asami kisses him at their first meeting in the flashback and the way he's so deliberately sadistic and the way he freezes in shock when there's a pistol pressed against his asshole and...ok you get the point. In my mind, these are the behaviors of a person who really, really gets off on a little pain, and doles it out instead as a substitute because he can't allow himself to be vulnerable enough to ask for it. You'll note I don't have him bawl and sob and beg for mercy. Let's not get crazy, after all. He's still a badass.


End file.
